


From An Exiled Perspective

by Alley_Skywalker



Category: Viva La Vida (song) -- Coldplay
Genre: Friendship, Gen, king in exile, moral support
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-23
Updated: 2009-12-23
Packaged: 2017-10-05 02:00:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,036
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/36568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alley_Skywalker/pseuds/Alley_Skywalker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A king in exile remembers his happier ruling days as his cousin tries to convince him that all is not yet lost. Based on the song by Coldplay, "Viva La Vida."</p>
            </blockquote>





	From An Exiled Perspective

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jewelfrost](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Jewelfrost).



> Hello! This is you faithful, frantic, flailing Pinch Hitter *g* I admit to picking this up late and not finding very many extra details for your request just sort of...winged it. I really like this song and I hope I was able to do it the justice it deserves :D Happy Holidays! Hope you enjoy!

“Open up, Henri! Henri? I know you’re there. It’s no good trying to keep me out.”

The insistent voice floated to him through the heavy door, locked with a rusty, metal latch. The man sitting deep in one of the two armchairs that stood before the small fireplace of the wooden cabin, embedded deep in the countryside and surrounded by woods, twirled a quill lazily in one hand. He stared blankly around him, at the plain, wooden walls, the sooty hearth, the humble furnishings, the wild countryside outside the single window.

“Henri, please. I am, after all, your cousin. I don’t deserve this treatment!”

The man rose, his long robe dragging behind him as he stalked to the door and threw it open to reveal a well dressed young man who gaped in amazement at him. “Dear Henri…how you have changed. And they say nobility is in the blood.” The young man in his flashy waistcoat, double-breasted blouse, and fashionable riding britches, edged past Henri and sank into one of the armchairs by the fire. “Come, I’ve brought wine.”

Henri shut the door and proceeded to sit across from his cousin, running a hand absentmindedly over his beard which had grown from lack of shaving. “What do you want, Louie?”

The young man twirled the bottle of Madera in his hands before asking a little cautiously, “No servants in the house?”

“There are few luxuries in exile.”

His cousin nodded gravely. “So it is.” He took out two glasses from his traveling bag and poured them both to the brim. “Drink.”

Henri took the glass and began to sip at the wine, feeling the familiar heat and taste of the wine as it poured down his throat, evoking memories from a past that seemed an entire lifetime ago.

 

_The seaport thrived with navy ships, vassals that would bring glory to their small kingdom. Sailors and officers rushed back and forth across the docks, making final preparations. He boarded the Firebolt, a fast and well armed ship, a sort of coming-of-age present from his father. What else could a young Prince ask for during a time of war? He turned to the stout man beside him and said with a broad, eager smile, “Do you know what I hope for, Counselor?” _

_The man looked around at him with some trepidation. “No, Your Grace, What might that be?”_

_“I hope that one day our navy will be large and strong enough to face even the British.”_

_“That is quite a goal, sir.”_

_He smirked. “Well, when I am King, you will see…”_

_*_

_“Report, Captain.”_

_The officer in front of him rattled off a casualty report. The Generals rose with their Prince “Gentlemen, time I lead this battle.” _

_Henri had always enjoyed battle, especially sea battle. The sound of canon fire, the smell of smoke and salt mixing into a putrid blend, the wild rush of adrenaline. He watched his ships move and maneuver under his orders like chess pieces moving across a board under the hand of a skillful player. Even more so, he loved the look on the faces of their prisoners, the Dukes and Princes and Barons. All those foreign nobles who feared his might. He might have been heir to a small nation but it was a powerful one. _

_In his dreams, Henri was King of the world      _

*

_His father’s death came suddenly. No serious illness preceded it, no duel, or battle wound, or riding accident. There was no sign of murder and for some time the kingdom wallowed in shock and mourning. _

_Henri’s own grief was not terribly long, interrupted by his crowning and the marriage that was quickly arranged afterwards. The parade before the crowning ceremony engraved itself onto his memory, a deliriously happy moment. The flags and drums, the crowds of people and flying hats. And the chant. The age-old chant: “the old king is dead, long live the king!” Henri felt like all his dreams had suddenly come true. Now he could make all those reforms he had planned for, achieve all of his goals, pursue all his dreams…_

*

_Henri had never seen it all going downhill, the way his power and the riches and power of those who were within his inner circle angered the bourgeoisie, or that the poor economic situation was blamed on his “useless reforms” or the colonization effort in Asia and Africa. He did not quite understand the social turmoil caused by the birth of a daughter and not an heir and the death of his Queen in childbirth. Somehow, he missed the inspiration that the French Revolution was for the people. Somehow, his agents had missed the coalescing rebellion led by Jacque Reveille and Andrew Delmar. While he had been preoccupied with matters of the state, with the reforms and foreign conquests, the revolutionaries waited for their chance for an overthrow..._

 

“You know, you never look at the upside of things, Henri, that’s mostly your problem,” Louie observed soberly. “Back when you were King…nothing was ever enough for you. The army never big enough, your conquests never large enough, the balls never glamorous enough…and to think that in reality you had everything. An entire small world at your feet, under your control.”

Henri waved his hand impatiently. “Must you remind me? Delmar and Reveille with their Republic…I am no one now…there is nothing left here for me.”

“Henri, Henri…Come here.” Louie stood and walked to the window, then turned and waved for his cousin to come stand beside him. Henri rose and unwillingly joined the younger man at the window. “At least your little rebels were less bloodthirsty than the French. Or, I’m afraid to say, you would have been guillotined not exiled.”

“Would death not have been better?”

Louie’s eyebrows rose and he threw an arm around Henri’s shoulders. “No! Not at all. Look there, at that forest, at that sky and those fields. Life is so beautiful, so vibrant. And here, away from the Capital with all its intrigue and dishonesty, you can start all over. I’ll help you. There were so many limitations for you when you thought you ruled the world. Nothing is impossible here.”


End file.
